Occult
__NOEDITSECTION__ Occult Character Foreword by the owner: * Troubled by various visions of a dark future, Jackson Mire left all he knew to pursue what he felt was his destiny. Wrestling within his own mind, Jackson has to decide how much of himself he is willing to give up in order to fulfill such a great responsibility. }}' |- | colspan="2" style="text-align:center; color:#000000; background:#33FF99;" | '''Personal Data' |- ! Real Name: | realname|Jackson Mire |- ! Known Aliases: | aliases|Occult, The White Mystic |- ! Species: | species|Human |- ! Age: | age|27 |- ! Height: | height|5' 11" |- ! Weight: | weight|180 lbs. |- ! Eye Color: | eyes|Green Glowing |- ! Hair Color: | hair|Black |- | colspan="2" style="text-align:center; color:#000000; background:#33FF99;" | Biographical Data |- ! Origin: | origin|Magic/Bloodline |- ! Identity: | identity|Known by The Peacekeepers |- ! Nationality: | nationality|Caucasian |- ! Occupation: | occupation|None |- ! Place of Birth: | birthplace|New Orleans, LA |- ! Base of Operations: | hometown|Chicago, IL/The Citadel |- ! Marital Status: | marital|Single |- ! Known Relatives: | relatives|Thomas Mire - Father, Jacquelyn Mire - Mother (whereabouts unknown) |- |} Summary The continuation of a bloodline that has ran through his family for centuries, Jackson Mire took his father's place in a mystical order known as 'The Masters'. 'The Masters' are a group of individuals that were predestined to be in-tune with the unseen happenings of this life... A magical deity deemed 'The Unknown'. While a member of 'The Masters', Jackson's magical abilities were fostered and honed. His reputation and reknown in the ranks of 'The Masters' continually grew, until Jackson revealed that he had started having visions. The other members of the magical order ignored Jackson and the visions that he was receiving, proclaiming that such powers never came to a member that was so "inexperienced". Jackson left his home in New Orleans, Louisiana; renouncing all ties to 'The Masters'. He has become a wanderer of sorts and has claimed to be the one chosen by 'The Unknown'. Taking the name Occult, Jackson follows the little glimpses of the future he sees in his visions and small whisperings he hears from the shadows. He is friendly to everyone he happens to meet, but calls very few friend. Troubled by the doubts his so called colleagues had of him and those that he has of himself, Jackson can tend to be very hard on himself and skeptical of who he can trust. The one thing that Jackson does understand is that he has a responsibility to try and prevent the future he is seeing in his visions from coming to pass. The funny thing about the future is that you never know exactly how and when that future is going to come about... History “You look like a monkey and you smell like one too!” Claps and cheers burst from the crowd surrounding Jackson as he blew out the candles on his birthday cake. Jackson’s face was covered in cotton candy and cake icing. His black hair was littered with multi-colored confetti that had moments before erupted from cannons on either side of the stage. It was as if every person that lived in the city of New Orleans had come out for the bash. In the midst of the craziness that was his son’s 10th birthday party, Jackson’s father kneeled down to his son and whispered in his ear, “Jackson, you are meant for great things.” Jackson thought nothing of it and proceeded to stuff his face with as much cake as he could. From the outside, Jackson appeared to have it all. Jackson Mire grew up in New Orleans, Louisiana in a historic brownstone not too far from the French Quarter. An only son who was fortunate enough to be born into a wealthy family, Jackson never really did without much. Jackson believed he was loved by his father, but most nights he was left alone with the butlers and maids that kept the home in working order. His father was a member of high society; attending masquerade balls and taking the role of king of the Mardi gras parade on several occasions. Jackson eventually got used to being alone; actually reveling at the opportunity it granted him to be able to do what he wanted. Besides, Jackson knew that his father would make up for leaving him alone all those nights at his next birthday party. Each year the party was even larger and more extravagant than the one before. The size and price of the gifts grew as well. Though the parties themselves would change, Jackson’s father would always make sure to look Jackson in the eyes and say, “Jackson, you are meant for great things.” Most of the time, Jackson would just write it off as his father trying to make up for lost time, but it was always said with great conviction and a sense of urgency that drowned out the commotion of the parties. Waking up on the morning of his 18th birthday, Jackson crawled out of bed and looked out of his bedroom window down into the courtyard below. No balloons. No tables. No 5 tiered cakes. There was nothing in the courtyard, except for a few gardeners that were pruning his father's rose bushes. Jackson thought to himself that something must be wrong. He actually forgot... His father had actually forgot his birthday. Jackson turned from the window, threw on a t-shirt, and ran into the hallway in search of his father. He had kept his cool about only getting attention from his father one day out of the year; Jackson thought himself old enough to tell his father how he truly felt. Turning a corner, Jackson stopped dead in his tracks. Jackson’s father was standing in the hallway wearing what looked to be a ceremonial robe. In his hands he held an old leather-bound book, which was covered in shimmering gold runes. Jackson’s father simply smiled and said, “Jackson, you are meant for great things.” Jackson’s father explained that he and Jackson’s ancestors were part of a group of sorcerers known as ‘The Masters’. Individuals predestined and chosen to study what Jackson’s father called ‘The Unknown’, members of Jackson’s family were enlisted to protect the inhabitants of the city of New Orleans from mystical corruption. All of those nights that Jackson was left alone, his father was actually meeting with other members of ‘The Masters’ to better protect him and the innocent of the city from supernatural danger. Jackson’s father apologized for all of the lonely nights, revealing that it was a responsibility he was given and was now passing on to Jackson. That night, Jackson took his father's place as the newest member of ‘The Masters’. Named “The White Mystic” by the other members of 'The Masters', Jackson was gifted with the powers of protective and restorative magic. As Jackson grew older, he began having visions of the future. Short and simple, these visions only occurred when he would be in a deep meditative state. As the visions continued, Jackson realized that they all related to the same thing: a grim and battle-ravaged wasteland. Jackson told his colleagues in ‘The Masters’ about the visions he was seeing. Writing it off as folly, ‘The Masters’ explained that visions of the future did not normally come to members that were so “inexperienced”. Jackson urged 'The Masters' to start taking what he was seeing in his visions seriously. He urged them to start taking what 'The Unknown' was telling them through him seriously. Jackson argued that he may not know what future these visions were telling, but that there was a reason that he was seeing them. There was a reason that he was the only one seeing them. Jackson had a gut instinct that to ignore his visions would only cause them to come true quicker. He was convinced that he had been the one destined to try and prevent the future he was seeing from coming to pass. Jackson did not care if no one else believed him. ‘The Unknown’ had chosen him. Renouncing his ties to ‘The Masters’, Jackson took the name Occult. He left his home in New Orleans and only travels where ‘The Unknown’ tells him to. To try and change the future can be considered foolish. Anyone claiming to be able to change destiny could easily be considered insane. Most people view their futures as an inevitable happening; as an uncontrollable thing. Jackson believes otherwise. If anyone can prevent the future from happening, Jackson believes that he is the one that can do it… His father did always tell him that he was meant for great things. Powers and Equipment * Precognition - Occult has the ability to see the future, but this ability is limited. The visions only occur when Occult is deep in meditation or in a deep, deep sleep. Additionally, the visions tend to revolve around the same future: a ravaged wasteland. He has no control over who's future he sees, but at times he can see specific individuals. * Restorative and Protective Magic - Occult has various incantations he can recite to protect himself and others during battle. * Dual Pistols - Occult has deadly aim with two arcane pistols that he "borrowed" from his father's study the day he left New Orleans. These serve as his primary means of attack. FAQ * COMING SOON! Artwork Meant for Greatness PART 1 – Life As Jackson Knew It BZZT! BZZT! BZZT! “Ungh… It can’t be eight already…” Jackson muttered, still half asleep. He reached out from under a mountain of blankets towards his cellular phone that was frantically vibrating on the top of his bedside table. Grasping it, Jackson began fumbling with the phone, trying to get it to stop screaming at him without having to open his eyes. BZZT! BZZT! BZZT! “Damn phone… stop ringing!” Jackson sat up, flinging the blankets to the floor. His hair looked as if a bird had just made a nest and the scraggly beginnings of a beard could be seen across his face. Jackson yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He dragged both of his hands down across his face, stopping just below his chin. “Man, I need to shave,” Jackson said to himself. “Ehh… I’ll make sure to do it before the party.” Jackson stood up from the side of his bed and walked over to his bedroom window. “By this time, I’m sure that the tents should at least be up.” Jackson muttered to himself as he pulled open the blinds. Looking down into the courtyard below his second floor bedroom window, Jackson expected to see various butlers, maids, and gardeners setting up for what was to be the party of the century; His eighteenth birthday party. Since Jackson could remember, his father would make an extravaganza of his birthday parties. Every year was a different theme and each year the party got bigger and better. This year he was expecting to get a car out of the deal. Scanning the courtyard, Jackson found no tents. He found no butlers, no maids, and no gardeners. The courtyard was empty, save for some birds that were cleaning themselves in the large fountain at its center. As if in disbelief, Jackson began saying, “Dad forgot my birthday… He finally forgot my birthday…” Shaking his head as he turned away from the bedroom window, Jackson continued, “He forgot my birthday… I can’t believe it…” Breaking into a run, Jackson swung open his bedroom door and entered the hallway screaming, “You finally did it! You forgot my birthday!” Jackson began thinking to himself how many times he thought that this would happen in years prior. Jackson’s father was a member of high society; he was always vacationing, made sure to attend all of New Orleans’ black tie affairs, and even rubbed shoulders with the city mayor. When he was home, he’d not even spend time with Jackson, choosing to be alone in his study instead. Jackson swore that this was the reason his mother left. Jackson’s voice echoed down the dark hallway. The shouting seemed to reverberate from the various suits of armor that littered the hallway. It was as if they were shouting along with Jackson. “Dad!” Jackson yelled as he rounded the corner and entered the hallway towards his father’s study. Jackson knew that is where he would find his father. His father was always in that room. In fact, Jackson found himself wandering in there many times while growing up because he felt closer to his father just simply knowing that he was in the same place in which his father spent so much time. Jackson thought himself old enough now to finally let his father know how he felt. If turning eighteen is the rightful age to be considered a man then Jackson was finally man enough to speak his mind. Throwing a yearly birthday party was hardly enough to make up for all of the lost time; to make up for being raised by people his father paid to do so. There was a time that Jackson truly enjoyed the large birthday parties. At first it was because he did get to see his father during them. In his young teenage years, they became a way to prove to others that his father did care about him. The past few years, the parties were just a means to get something. If his father was not going to be there for him, why not get something out of the situation? “Dad! I know you’re in there and I know that you hear me!” Jackson continued screaming as he swung the double doors to his father’s study wide open. Upon seeing his father, Jackson’s breath was stolen from him. Jackson’s father was standing right in the center of the room, wearing what looked to be like ceremonial garb. He clutched a brown leather bound book in his right hand. His left hand was held up in front of him, as if gesturing to Jackson to be silent. The anger that Jackson felt in his rampage down the hallway was now replaced with confusion. “What the hell are you wearing?” Jackson asked his father. Jackson’s father replied, “The only way to tell you this is to just come out and say it… I am a Mystic.” “What the @!%#? Are you crazy?” Jackson responded, his eyes not believing what he was seeing and his ears not believing what he was hearing. “I am a Mystic. And you are too,” Jackson’s father said with a smile. Jackson did not say a word. He closed his eyes, shook his head as if erasing everything he just witnessed from his mind, and starting walking back out into the hallway. What his father was trying to pull, Jackson had no idea, but the one thing he did know is that he did not like it. At that moment, he wanted to be as far away from his father as possible. Jackson’s father moved into the doorway of his study, “Jackson! Turn around! Listen to me!” Jackson simply shook his head again and continued walking. Jackson thought to himself how ironic that it was actually his father who was now trying to get his attention. “I am your father! Come back here!” Jackson’s father yelled. Jackson retorted with a laugh, “And you’re also a wizard!” “Stop now!” Jackson’s father shouted. Suddenly, the two suits of armor that Jackson was closest to jumped forward and blocked his way. They moved flawlessly and quick enough to cause Jackson to fall backwards. Jackson’s father rushed forward, as if in flight, and steadied Jackson before he hit the floor. “Son… I asked you to turn around. I’m trying to make this as easy to understand and believe as I can. Please do not make me do that again.” Jackson’s father’s voice was now calm and controlled. “Jackson, please just give me time to explain. That’s all I ask of you,” Jackson’s father said, almost pleading with his son. Jackson simply nodded his head. PART 2 – The Unknown and The Silence Jackson was sitting in one of the large maroon chairs in his father’s study, trying to comprehend what he was being told. Thomas Mire, Jackson’s father, was sitting in the chair opposite his son, hands waving frantically as he spoke. “And you’re one too. It’s in our bloodline. You are now of age.” Thomas ended with a deep breath. He finally rested his hands, fingers interlocked, on his lap. Jackson kept silent, still half believing what he was hearing. He found himself also afraid to ask too many questions, fearing that if he did he’d have to listen to his father’s story all over again. Jackson cleared his throat, “So, let’s get this straight… You are a Mystic that is part of a larger group of Mystics known as The Masters. You all are predestined and have been chosen to study some ancient deity called The Unknown. The whole time you were ignoring me… My entire childhood… You were off with these other magicians protecting us from some supernatural danger… a supernatural danger that cannot be seen by those who do not know of The Unknown.” “Correct,” Mr. Mire replied. “And you are a Mystic as well. You have finally reached the age to take my place in The Masters.” Jackson sat up in his chair, startled. “What do you mean, ‘take your place’… Are you smoking something? Maybe some incense or something you burned in one of your rituals has you delusional. I’m all fine with us being Mystics, but there is no way in hell that I’m taking your place.” “Son. You have to. It’s how The Unknown works. Our family was chosen ages ago. I took your grandfather’s place when I turned eighteen; he took his father’s place when he turned eighteen, and so forth. You are predestined. You are meant for great things,” Thomas said in reply. Jackson rolled his eyes, “You always tell me that I’m meant for great things! This is what you were talking about! I thought it was just something you’d tell me every birthday to try and make up for every other day of the year that you missed. Dad, this magic stuff… It’s not so great!” Thomas laughed, “In time, you’ll swallow those words.” He continued, “I’m… hurt… that you would think I’d be saying you are meant for great things just to make up for lost time. I am sorry that I was not there for you. I will admit that I thought making your birthday a large celebration each year would, in part, make up for my absence in your everyday life. I guess I was wrong. You can be angry with me, but I had a responsibility. By protecting this city, I was protecting you, and I was protecting our bloodline.” Jackson fell silent again. He looked out of the large bay window at the back of his father’s study. The sun was setting, indicating to Jackson that this conversation with his father had taken quite a while. His birthday had come and gone, without any celebration. Jackson looked away from the sunset and back to his father. The setting sun cast a light across his father’s face, defining wrinkles and the beginnings of gray hair. For the first time, Jackson noticed how much his father had aged. Jackson thought to himself how tired his father must be. Living a secret life, supposedly fighting other-worldly dangers, and somehow making sure that Jackson was at least taken care of, looked to be finally taking its toll. Jackson decided at that moment to forgive his father for everything. Of course, Jackson would never tell him so, but Jackson was sure that his father did the best that he could. Breaking the silence, Jackson took a deep breath and said, “Ok. I understand. So, how do we do this?” “You mean, how do you take my place?” Thomas asked. “Yeah. That,” Jackson replied. Thomas Mire explained, “Oh, it’s easy. I just have to relinquish my birth right to you. We just have to be in the same place and I have to do it before the night’s end.” “Today? There’s a time limit on this thing!?” Jackson exclaimed. “What did you expect? There is a reason we have to wait until your eighteenth birthday and the window to continue with the bloodline is very short. Why do you think I did not throw you a birthday party today? If we had the ability to postpone the ceremony for any length of time, I would have, but I knew that it would take you some time to accept and comprehend all of this. It must be done tonight,” Thomas replied. Jackson asked, “And what if it’s not done tonight?” “I will perish and the link that this bloodline has to The Unknown will cease. All that has been done before us will be forgotten.” Thomas’ voice was soft, but the words echoed in Jackson’s mind. Closing his eyes tightly, Jackson wished that he could just go back to bed and somehow start this day over. He wished that he could forget everything he just heard. Why did it have to be so soon? He understood the responsibility he was about to accept and knew that his life would be enveloped by it, just like his father’s was. Jackson wondered if he was actually willing to give up a real life for a life filled with secrets. The only person he would honestly know other than himself would be his father. Thomas continued, “I know you still have questions. All will be answered when you take my place in The Masters.” “Ok. I’m ready,” Jackson said. Letting out a large sigh, he looked at his father and forced himself to smile. “Thank you for being brave, Jackson. I know that smile may not be real, but I will remember it all the same.” Thomas smiled. He stood from his chair and walked to the center of the study. He held out a hand to Jackson. Jackson stood and joined his father in the center of the room. “If you have any questions, you can start finding their answers in here,” Thomas said, as he handed Jackson the old leather bound book that he was carrying earlier this morning. “Let’s start,” Thomas said as a glowing circular rune appeared on the floor around Jackson and his father. The rune started spinning and changing colors. The rune itself then rose from the floor and began to swirl around Jackson and his father. As the rune continued to rise, its color continued to change, but only through various shades of green. “Jackson, you will not be able to tell anyone about The Unknown. You cannot even hint to a non-member of The Masters that you are a Mystic,” Thomas said, looking at Jackson intently. “This includes me.” “What!?” Jackson yelled. “Dad! I won’t be able to talk to you about all of this!?” Thomas continued with the ceremony as if he did not hear Jackson’s question. The glowing rune was now a bright blue-green color. The same blue-green light began emanating from Thomas’ and Jackson’s bodies. Thomas looked over at his son and said, “Remember Jackson that you are meant for great things. Both your Mother and I believed it. I still believe it.” Just then, the light that was emanating from Thomas burst forward, joining the light that was already surrounding Jackson. The light intensified, blinding Jackson to his surroundings. He felt as if he was floating in nothingness. He groped out in front of him, trying to find anything that he could hold on to, anything that would help him gather his bearings. “Dad!” Jackson hollered, his voice full of panic.